


The Marriage of Miss Penelope Featherington

by MissLadyScribe



Category: Bridgerton (TV)
Genre: ....or is it?, AU where Baron Featherington is alive and not a mess, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And he doesn't even matter, Angst, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, It is... probably, Jealousy, Let's pretend he's there, Marriage of Convenience, Penthony, Polin, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28978317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLadyScribe/pseuds/MissLadyScribe
Summary: "Anthony was silent for a few moments and the two of them watched the dancers spin around the floor. They were two acquaintances who were really strangers, wanting nothing from the other. Two heartbroken lovers who were determined to move forward even if healing was not possible. Two members of a society that they never truly belonged to, whether from a lack of desire or a lack of conformity.It was then that Lord Anthony Bridgerton turned to Miss Penelope Featherington and asked for her hand in marriage."
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
Comments: 348
Kudos: 666





	1. The Lord Works in Mysterious Ways

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for giving my story a read! A couple quick notes:
> 
> 1.) This story is slightly AU because Pen's dad is alive and his gambling debts aren't going to be addressed in this story. My headcanon is that he's just a really unremarkable father that's pretty apathetic and took in Marina because her father pays him to house her. Feel free to explain away the lack of a cousin taking over the Featherington finances however you want, though. 
> 
> 2.) I'm a hardcore Polin shipper (TV Colin and Penelope, to be specific), but I needed to quell the beast inside me that wants Colin to suffer and angst just as much as Penelope did over him. We love Colin, we respect people's attractions here, but this is about feelings damnit. I am not yeeting him into the belly of the beast, only dangling him by the wedding ring that he thankfully didn't give to Marina. 
> 
> 3.) This was intended to be a one-shot, but it seems as if this story has demanded a few more chapters. How many, I'm not sure, but I guess we'll see where it flows. 
> 
> Happy reading!

It started, as with much of the intrigue in Penelope Featherington’s life, with a quick-witted thought at a ball.

The season was ripe to begin in the city of London, and every member of the ton’s upper echelon was crowded under a sky of glittering chandeliers and painted ceiling. Music wound itself through the sea of clustered dancers, finding its path through the tightly packed people and towards the windows that had been flung open to relieve the sweltering heat within the room.

Gossiping mamas lined the edges of the room, all watching the young ladies and gentlemen twirl around the room and hoping their child would become the next to marry as fortunately as the Duke and Duchess Hastings had the season last. Debutantes twirled their fans for their first season and their sixth, while the eligible young bachelors of society laughed loudly and sipped perhaps too many drinks. And at the very vestiges of the crowd stood one Miss Featherington in her second season.

In her less-than-lovely floral and coral-colored gown, Penelope’s eyes swept over the crowd seeking information for the timely first copy of Lady Whistledown’s society papers. With Eloise likely still hiding from her mama and the rest of the Bridgertons preoccupied with their own interests, Penelope was free to collect as much information as she possibly could. And collect, she would.

The first ball of the season was always the most important, of course. After months of isolation away from the bustle and brightness of society, people always scrambled to find their place on the grapevine to hear the whispers of her very fruitful publication. And who was Penelope Featherington to deny her dear readers the pleasure of a grand first edition?

Still, Penelope couldn’t help but feel the butterflies behind the corset her mother managed to wrangle her in. This was her second season, after all! She knew that a lady such as herself was never going to wed in her second season, but the prospect that she _could_ wed simultaneously thrilled her and frayed her nerves.

Whatever fluttering feelings the knowledge gave her, it was quickly dampened by the crushing knowledge that one Colin Bridgerton would be absent for the majority of the season due to his extensive tour that had already lasted six months. Aside from a brief stay with the Bridgertons halfway between his journeys through southern Europe and northern Europe, Colin had been removed from the country since the end of last season.

Eloise had remarked in her last letter that even halfway through his travels, Colin seemed a very different man. Of course he was still charming (Eloise had begrudgingly admitted) and certainly just as hungry, but Colin reportedly gained more than a healthy tan on his journey. She couldn’t put it into the exact right words, but Eloise thought Colin seemed less boyish. There was an air about him, below the layers of smiles and wit, that seemed more serious nowadays.

The thought hurt her chest, but what else was new for Penelope? She had been in love with Colin Bridgerton for years and he only viewed her as a “dear friend” or an extension of his sister. That was never going to change, no matter how many times her heart shattered. She simply needed to get over him.

At the very least, the assurance of a barren season gave her better leave to cover her trail as Lady Whistledown and distract herself from hopeless musings. No one would ever expect her to be the infamous gossip, but after six months of belittling her own gowns, coiffures and pitiful second season even her printer may begin to doubt her as being the true owner of the nom de plume. Hiding a small chuckle behind her champagne glass, she couldn’t help but be amused at her own wit sometimes.

“Miss Featherington, if you have found any true amusement in a room such as this, I beg you to impart the levity upon myself,” A deep voice said from beside her.

Coughing on the last remnants of the champagne in her throat, Penelope was startled to find Anthony Bridgerton standing next to her. Dressed in a smart blue outfit and a perhaps too aggressively tied cravat, he looked pained to even be present at tonight’s festivities let alone in conversation with her. Then again, when wasn’t the Viscount brooding?

“I beg your pardon, my lord?” Penelope said, bringing her fan up to cool the embarrassed blush on her cheeks.

“I apologize for scaring you, Miss Featherington. It was only an impertinent remark and I’ll not impede upon your debut any longer by repeating it,” Anthony said with a short bow, starting to move away.

And with a boldness she rarely ever revealed to society with her own two lips, Penelope said the words that would forever change the course of her life.

“I daresay I love a good quip, particularly from a man who ties his cravat as if he intends choke himself with it rather than face an evening with the ton.”

The Viscount stopped. Penelope’s hand flew to her mouth. For a moment, the roar of the dance floor seemed silent compared to the beat of her heart. The barb was too far, the insult too great. Even if she was like family to the Bridgertons, she was never this careless around their head. Penelope braced for the worst.

But for the first time in all their acquaintance, Lord Anthony Bridgerton turned back towards her with a look of shock on his face.

She wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than anger, but she was grateful that she hadn’t spoken loud enough for anyone in the vicinity to hear her words. Anthony blinked rapidly as an eon passed without a reply; an infinity spanned waiting for the delivery of his mercy or his scorn. He simply stared into her face, coming to terms with the woman standing before him.

Without a word his own face slowly fell back into the usual look of thinly veiled disdain and he moved to stand beside her once more. His eyes trained themselves upon the dance floor and he drew his arms behind his back. Penelope turned to the dance floor as well, sipping her champagne once more as the heat from her face rushed down her neck, chest and bosom.

“I rather dislike surprises, Miss Featherington,” Anthony said. “But I deplore the demands of polite society much more.”

“The restraints of polite society can be loathsome, but are they not necessary?” Penelope asked.

“One could say the same about decorum, could they not?” Anthony said, turning only momentarily to raise an eyebrow.

Penelope could only sip her drink and flush even redder.

“If only the same could be said about the concealment of one’s true thoughts and feelings,” She timidly said over the rim of her glass.

Her mind couldn’t help but flash to Colin.

Anthony was silent for a few moments and the two of them watched the dancers spin around the floor. They were two acquaintances who were really strangers, wanting nothing from the other. Two heartbroken lovers who were determined to move forward even if healing was not possible. Two members of a society that they never truly belonged to, whether from a lack of desire or a lack of conformity.

It was then that Lord Anthony Bridgerton turned to Miss Penelope Featherington and asked for her hand in marriage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: A lovely commenter pointed out that Penelope's first London season was actually in the show, so I've fixed it to be her second season. I've also clarified the timeline to make it easier to follow. No major changes, just a little tidbit for moving forward.


	2. Agree to Agree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick Note: A lovely commenter pointed out that Penelope had her debut season in the show, so I made some minor edits and moving forward she'll be in her second season.  
> Happy reading!

Standing on the balcony in the cool night air, Penelope gripped the stone railing and tried to regain her composure as she processed Anthony’s request. She couldn’t look at him, couldn’t fathom how he could truly desire a life like the one he proposed.

“My lord… please correct my understanding if it’s misconstrued, but are you sincerely suggesting a marriage of convenience?” She asked.

“I wouldn’t have made the offer if I wasn’t entirely sincere, Miss Featherington,” Anthony said with all the nonchalance of a man NOT proposing to her.

“But why? Why of all people would you want to marry me? You’ve been a content if not happy bachelor all these years. And if you did want to marry, what could possibly possess you to marry me of all people? You’re Lord Anthony _Bridgerton_ , a viscount and brother to a duchess. Title and fortune aside, your rakish ways certainly must have taught you the effects you have upon women. Not a single eligible young lady at this ball would reject your advances. Instead, you fling an absurd proposal at the least eligible lady in the ton: a woman you do not love and never will,” Penelope said.

The words were blunt, the fire in her tone burning away all propriety and fueling the blush in her cheeks and chest. How on Earth had he chosen her of all people?

“You sell yourself short, Miss Featherington. I have always found you to be an amiable, good-natured and upstanding young woman. And it is because I have been a bachelor for far too long that I seek to finally marry. I have been shirking my responsibilities to my family and to my title since my father died and I can bear it no longer,” Anthony said.

“At this point in my life, I have realized that love has no place in my future marriage and would be wholly better without it. I am determined to marry without it and I believe that you may be the best bride.”

“My name is Penelope, Anthony. If we’re going to be speaking so bluntly of such matters, at least call me by my Christian name,” Penelope said.

Anthony nodded, letting out the smallest of sighs.

“See here Anthony, I am aware that I am amiable, good-natured and upstanding. I’m aware that I possess an ounce of wit. I concede that once I let my tongue slip, I may even have something interesting to say. However, we are both aware of my position within society. I am the third daughter of a baron, a few stones above the acceptable weight and a wallflower. There is nothing for you to gain from marrying me, so why choose me?” Penelope said.

“Because I could tolerate your presence for the rest of my life,” Anthony replied.

Turning his gaze from the expansive garden before them and towards her face, Anthony’s face was completely unperturbed.

“I will not marry for love, but I would like to marry someone who can handle herself around a man like myself. I am aware that I am… a handful. I’ve always thought you a fine young lady, if a tad too harsh upon yourself, but in recent consideration of marriage I thought you too timid to ever reveal yourself to me as you do to Eloise or Colin. However, whether it was the champagne or the nerves surrounding tonight, you have deigned to revealed yourself. Tonight has proved to me that you are capable of holding your own against me, and therefore you are now the most suitable candidate,” Anthony said.

“Oh.”

“Indeed.”

How she was still standing, Penelope hadn’t an inkling. She came to this ball tonight expecting to fall to pieces over the beginning of her second season or the absence of a man who will never see her the same way. She expected to gather gossip and welcome another London season. Now she had to consider a proposal of marriage to the wrong Bridgerton brother. How could she consent? But, at the same time, how could she refuse?

“I say this with the utmost delicacy possible, Penelope, but if it is someone else that causes your hesitation…” Anthony trailed off.

His eyes filled in every bit of subtext.

Oh God, he knew.

He knew about her love for Colin, he knew how much she pined over him. He was giving her an out because he knew that she loved his brother. Christ, how low could she sink? She cleared her throat, breaking his stare.

“Perhaps there was such a man once, but no longer,” She said, her voice thick with emotion.

Glancing over at him, Penelope couldn’t bear the look of pity settled onto his face. She had to say something, anything to get it to stop. It only broke her heart further and further, as if she was watching Colin announce his proposal to Marina again and again.

“We are both aware that Colin does not return my feelings, Anthony. No use in dwelling on what could be.”

Anthony nodded, and the two once again turned to face the garden. The world behind them seemed so bright and cheery, with light and music pouring from every corner. But both knew that they had no true place within it.

“Siena. Her name is Siena and I cannot marry her,” Anthony said in the quietest of voices.

Penelope whipped her head to look at him in shock. Was Anthony also in love with another he could not have? There was a woman alive who would refuse him? She could not reconcile the thought, but then it clicked.

She knew of no one in polite society with the name Siena, and it was quite literally her job to know everyone’s name. Anthony had to be in love with a lower-class woman. A star-crossed romance that a Viscount could never pursue.

It made sense to purse a painless marriage if one needed to fulfill a duty to their family and one’s heart was not up to the task. She couldn’t fault him for it. Nor could she deny the fact that this was an excellent opportunity for herself.

She may only be entering her second season, but she could read the writing on the wall. In a society that loved caging the prettiest birds, she was an ugly duckling. In a few short seasons, she would be staring down the shotgun barrel of spinsterhood and if she got any offers at all, she would certainly never be offered the comforts and luxury proposed to her now. Colin was never going to see her the way she saw him, so what did she have to lose?

Penelope placed a single gloved hand on Anthony’s arm, drawing his gaze.

“If I am to accept this proposal, Anthony, then I believe we have an agreement to discuss.”


	3. A Man Receives an Announcement

In the end, an agreement was reached as quickly and painlessly as both parties had hoped. Anthony was as headstrong as usual, but Penelope had enough wit to persuade him where necessary and enough of the whirlwind courage she had found that night to let him actually hear it. Besides, both had similar goals in mind.

They would have three children, with the provision that more may be required if a male heir was not produced to inherit the viscountcy, fortune and etcetera. Money would be set aside for daughters and any sons after the first born.

Aside from brief tours or necessary departures, the two would live in the same manor in separate rooms for the rest of their lives. Wifely and husbandly duties would be performed consensually as necessary but limited as much as possible, unless otherwise amended. (A provision that made Penelope blush madly, just to note.)

Both parties were free to come and go as they pleased, so long as their activities would not cause gossip around the ton. And Penelope, without any needed explanation, would have access to a driver at all times.

Most importantly, the two would be married by the end of the season.

It seemed so clinical, but Penelope felt a small bit of pride at their negotiation. Anthony promised he would pen down their arrangement and bring her two copies of the document to sign when he came by her house tomorrow with flowers. He would slip her the envelope with her bouquet of roses and she would keep his copy in her possession until she could discreetly return it.

The two young “lovers” then shook hands and parted ways for the night.

At 8 o’clock in the morning (or 10 past 8, given Anthony Bridgerton’s ever lagging internal clock) one Lord Bridgerton knocked on the Featherington’s front door bearing the largest bouquet of roses anyone had laid eyes on and asked to speak with Baron Featherington.

Immediately, the entire house went into a chaos. Baroness Portia Featherington’s eyes had never bugged out of her head so fast or so far in her life, and Penelope worried she would faint when she saw the flowers were addressed to _Penelope._ A flurry of servants, her mother and her sisters bustled around her with questions as they primped her, but Penelope played coy. Let them think she had enraptured a viscount on the first night of her second season, or even covertly during her debut last season.

Lady Whistledown herself even implied the same thought, albeit with more shock laced in her tone. It could not be a matter of impropriety due to the absence of both families from London, but an immediate proposal to a Bridgerton! How bits of charcoal had condensed so quickly into a diamond, the lady could not fathom.

Within the hour, Anthony settled with Baron Featherington and the deed was done. Miss Penelope Featherington was to wed Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. Dropping to one knee, Anthony slid a gorgeous diamond and sapphire ring onto her finger. He bid his adieu and then the real battle started.

Determined to give her third daughter all the care she had neglected since birth, Penelope was quickly buried under the weight of the wedding of the year. She existed only in a whirlwind of dresses, invitations, cakes and preparations. The wedding would be soon, and the Featheringtons had to be ready to step upwards in society. Penelope simply wished she could catch her breath.

* * *

Two weeks later and 500 miles away, Colin Bridgerton felt the same way.

The past year had been the tour of a lifetime: Colin had traveled from London to Greece to the Vienna to Paris and everywhere in between. With only a brief stop at home to see his family halfway through, Colin had had the space to grow on his own. It had taught him a lot. Far from the watchful eyes of the Bridgerton clan, as loving and overwhelming as they were, Colin learned what it meant to be a man. More importantly, he learned what it meant to be himself.

At first, he believed that he was destined to live life as his brother Anthony did. He had always been a flirt and well-received in matters of jubilation. Why would he not capitalize on his natural talents and lend himself to amusements of all sorts, particularly on such a fine extended tour?

Besides, it felt excellent, running from his life back home. There wasn’t a woman he would refuse, not a song he wouldn’t sing, nor a drink he wouldn’t take. It was wonderful, for a short period of time. How freeing it was to eat as much rich food as he pleased without the comment of his mother. To sing and dance until all thoughts of his sham of an engagement faded from mind. To kiss the rims of whiskey glasses and the lips of strange, wild women in cities he had never heard of before.

But within a few weeks, the pleasure of parties had died a slow painful death deep within his chest. What started out as a twinge of regret and a massive headache the next morning, had turned into his entire night being soured simply by hearing a song he danced with Marina to or, for some strange reason, a woman with a shock of red hair.

Somewhere on the Ionian sea, sailing on a boat from Greece to Italy, Colin had stepped away from the merrymaking of the crew. Drinkless, womanless and songless, he had simply stared up in the dark expanse of the night sky. Millions of stars shone down upon the Earth and laid themselves down neatly onto the mirror-like water. With the moon well and truly covered, Colin seemed to find himself surrounded by stars both above and below.

It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

The breath caught in his chest and he could not tear his eyes from his surroundings. That life could produce such wonders was beyond him. It was then he realized that he felt more true happiness and peace right in this moment than he had at any parties he had attended thus far.

With a new understanding of the world, Colin spent the next few weeks traversing about the south of Europe in search of the wonders of Earth. With the temperament of his brother Benedict, his attentions belonged only to the pursuit of true, unadulterated beauty. He may have sipped wines and winked at women, but that was simply his amiable nature. No, his true focus was solely upon the consumption of the world. From the Colosseum in Rome to the opera houses of Vienna, Colin absorbed every sight that he could.

Still, there was a small but growing feeling in his chest that he could not place a finger on. It didn’t come to him until he deigned to briefly visit his family’s countryside home in between his tours of France and Prussia. 

After three months of living in inns, in carriages and on ships, it naturally felt better to sleep in a familiar bed in his own home. Living amongst his beloved siblings was wonderous: he loved hearing the pounding footsteps of Hyacinth and Gregory running the halls and the having his mother laugh over his ever-hearty appetite. Presenting Francesca with trinkets, relaying the finer points of his experience to Eloise, and boasting of the wild nights to Anthony and Benedict were satisfying. Still, he couldn’t even help the twinge of regret that he hadn’t the opportunity to discuss it all with Pen, for his best friend always had the sharpest wit and best commentary.

Leaving had admittedly caused him to shed a few tears but upon reaching the Netherlands, Colin had finally realized what had been ruminating in the back of his head. Same as the draw of wild bachelorhood had faded, the prospect of more months touring alone suddenly made him feel a bit queasy. What was the point of beauty, if not to share it? He could describe his travels as well as he pleased (and writing in his journal of his adventures did bring him bountiful joy), but in the end a person not journeying beside him could never fully understand.

Colin Bridgerton was lonely.

Once stated, the feeling would not go away. Although he continued to enjoy the sights he encountered, it was always splashed with a bit of remorse over his lack of companionship.

It made no sense it him, though! He had met many a good acquaintance along the way and the loyal servants by his side had quite relaxed outside the halls of the Bridgerton home. Still, it was not enough. Even his family visit had not fully scratched the itch he felt. There was no reason he should feel as lonely as he did.

The answer came from an innkeeper, deep in the heart of Prussia. The old man had asked in heavily accented English to join Colin at his table late one evening. Colin did not favor the scent of a tobacco pipe as he ate his dinner, but the loneliness within him demanded company and thus acquiesced. The two sat in silence as the man smoked and Colin chewed his meat pie slowly.

“So, what’s her name?” The old man asked after a few minutes of silence.

Colin furrowed his eyebrows, confused.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I asked you for the name of the girl you’re trying to run so far from,” The old man replied.

Colin inhaled his bite of pie and spluttered as he began to choke.

“Sir, I am not running from any girl,” Colin said.

It was not absolute truth, as his tour had only begun following the ordeal with Marina and at the suggestion of Penelope. But Colin had realized months ago, around the time he began truly appreciating the beauty of the world, that his “love” for Marina had simply been infatuation. Like the wildness of parties, she had swept him up in her embrace and he had never stopped to assess the decision to marry her. He rarely ever thought of her now.

In fact, he rarely ever thought of any of the women he flirted and romanced with. Should he be asked to recall the name of every girl he had ever made eyes at, he could likely only list a handful of names. The thought struck him deeply, for what had he truly gained from those interactions? A moment of amusement?

And what of the ladies’ feelings? Yes, the women on his tours knew that he was a traveler enjoying his youth, but what of the young ladies of London? He had a reputation for his charming nature and was well-regarded, but behind closed doors he shuddered to think that he had hurt the feelings of any of those women. How naïve was he? What’s worse is that he could not, for the life of him, stop picturing Pen throughout the last season. Why could he not get her expression out of his mind’s eye?

The Prussian coughed his way through a laugh as he exhaled a large cloud of smoke into the small dining room.

“An Englishman sitting in the dining room of my Prussian pub for two late nights in a row, not drunk and with that sad expression on your face? I sincerely doubt that’s the truth,” He said. “You’re no lord or duke or prince, but you have money so it must not be an issue of forbidden love. So what is it?”

Colin reached desperately to silence the thoughts in his mind, but he could not.

“Sir, I insist that there is no woman. There is not a woman on this Earth that I could ever claim to lo-“ Colin started, but had to stop himself.

Was there truly not a single woman on this Earth that he was in love with? If he had disregarded the question as absurd, perhaps the answer may still be no.

But… but why had he thought of one woman in particular when love was mentioned? Why did the curve of _her_ cheeks appear so vividly in his mind? Why did the memory of her laughter echo in his ears and cause his heart to race? Why did he recall with perfect clarity a few long gazes at a few random parties last he was in London?

The old man chuckled and leaned over the table to pick up Colin’s empty plate.

“You see, I’d recognize a lovesick man any day. After too many years of seeing it in the mirror, how could I not?” He said, but Colin was no longer listening.

The visage of Penelope Feathrington, his dearest best friend, had invaded his mind. She had illuminated every dark portion left in his mind, clearing away all confusion and ill feelings. Christ, had he been so blind for so long? He loved her. He loved Pen.

The realization spun his view of the world so drastically that he stumbled through the next few days of his tour in a trance. Every wonder had her name plastered across it. And the more he considered it, the more he was assured that this was not another instance of Marina.

This was not an ill-conceived romance with such little thought to the future that he would consider an elopement. No, Colin knew that this was a love bound in steadiness. He wished to marry in front of the entire ton and declare his life-long devotion to her with every idiot who dared overlook or insult the most intelligent, beautiful and well-natured woman in the world present to hear.

But would she have him? The thought kept him awake staring at the ceiling late through the night, as each indiscretion he’d ever committed ran through his mind. What an ass he had been: flirting with half of London and almost marrying her cousin. What an indomitable bastard he had been. All the while she-

The thought had him sit up in bed. He paused, mouthing the words to himself to test their veracity. All the while she loved him. Her affection was something he had, in the back of his mind, once or twice wondered about. But a true, close look at her behavior around him, her speech and her attitude… those words at the Hastings Ball… God help him!

Flinging his covers off, Colin walked over to the water basin and poured a healthy amount of water into the bowl. Flinging the water over his face to the point it rolled down his naked chest, Colin tried to cool the burning within his core. There was no doubt that Pen loved him back.

He would have to end his trip immediately, he decided. It was Pen’s second season already and he needed to reach her before anyone else did. With a speed of a man possessed, Colin arranged for the swiftest trip home possible. He would not rest until his ring was placed upon her finger.

On the morning he was set to travel, Colin finished packing like a madman. Shirts and cravats and shoes were tossed haphazardly into his trunks as he refused to allow the servants to prepare at their snail’s pace. He had a bride to reach.

Only the loud knocking at his room’s door broke him from his trance. At the door, a messenger stood with a letter in his beloved Pen’s handwriting. Could providence have better timing? Closing the door, Colin ripped open the seal and began reading with the highest hopes.

His hopes soon turned to ashes.

_It is the great pleasure of the Bridgerton and Featherington families to announce the impending marriage of Miss Penelope Featherington and his Lord Viscount Anthony Bridgerton._

The letter fluttered from his hands and Colin stood dead still in the center of the room. His brother was to marry the love of his life, right before his very eyes. The two had shown no attachment beforehand, but love was often illogical. By God, how…. how was he to survive this? He needed answers yesterday, and so Colin propelled himself into packing once more. Rage fueling his limbs instead of joy, he worked with a fury unbeknownst to him.

Colin would not let the love of his life slip through his fingers once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't been following the Bridgerton Tiktok Musical, I highly recommend you look into it.


	4. The Good, The Bad and The Beautiful

In the five and a half weeks since she had become engaged to Anthony, Penelope’s life had not stopped racing around her once. She had been stuffed silly with samples of wedding sweets and had practiced looking majestic while dancing minuets until her muscles begged her to stop. Pen did not know how much longer she could stand it, but the thought that once she was married she would be a free woman kept her going.

Her developing friendship with Anthony also kept her sane. She honestly could not fathom how she could have done this without being by his side. It was a relief to know that whatever inane ritual or ridiculous pageantry she would be forced to participate in, she could rip to shreds with her tongue the very notion of it all.

Yes, Penelope looked forward to their chaperoned walks, dance hall commentary and dinners together. There was no one more receptive to her wit and conversation than Anthony- well, almost no one more receptive. But that could not matter now. It just couldn’t.

Anyway, today was to be a lovely day because today, she would be going to the modiste to design her wedding gown and new closet. Normally, she would shudder at thought of a single gown fitting, but only because her mother always insisted on putting her into the worst colors with the gaudiest ornamentation. With her mother fully and of course entirely coincidentally preoccupied with looking at arrangements at the florist, Penelope would instead be visiting with Lady Violet Bridgerton. Oh, she could kiss her mother-in-law and fiancé for being so clever!

Surrounded by silks and tulles and velvets of the most wonderful patterns and colors, she felt pure joy for the first time in the preparation of this wedding. Running her hands across the water-like fabric, not a hint of itchiness or scratchiness, felt like bliss.

“You seem to be having the time of your life, Penelope. Not that every young lady besides Eloise doesn’t enjoy a trip to the modiste,” Lady Violet said, a twinkle in her eyes.

Penelope was unable to hide her wide grin, loving the presence of a tasteful mother figure for once.

“I am sure you are familiar with mother’s taste, yes? That may explain all to you,” She dared to say.

Lady Violet smiled coyly at her but said nothing. She turned back to the wall of fabrics, plucking a bright blue sheer piece of fabric and a wonderfully plain white silk from the stack. She laid the blue fabric over the white, creating a gorgeous effect. Violet held the fabrics close to her face and examined the pairing with a smile.

“Yes, that should do quite nicely. It will suit your hair and the color of your ring perfectly. Unless you had another fabric in mind for the last dress?” Violet asked.

Penelope shook her head, and Violet handed the two bolts to the shop assistant. With all her fabrics picked, Penelope was then ushered into the dressing room to try on mock ups of her new gowns. She wanted to save her wedding dress until last, so she would have something to look forward to as she was stabbed with pins for the next hour. It would be worth it.

Stepping out from behind the curtain and in front of the large mirror, Penelope gazed at herself in the mirror. In all her joy of finally having the privilege to pick her own fabrics and designs, she had forgotten about this part of the ordeal. Nothing could kill her confidence faster than having to stare at herself in the mirror for so long. Sure, the color of her dresses may compliment her fire red hair now, but it changed nothing of her chubby chin or her rounded middle or her thick arms.

As Violet pointed all the changes needed for the final dress ( _“Be sure to drop the waist a tad- I don’t care if empire is the fashion, it will suit her better”)_ , Penelope’s eyes couldn’t help but begin to well with tears. Couldn’t she just look beautiful once? Just for her wedding day, or her honeymoon or a ball- any day at all?

It was then that the shop door flung open and the bell rang, announcing the arrival of Anthony Bridgerton.

“Mother? Mother, I know you’re here,” He called out from the front of the shop, seeming a bit peeved.

Violet looked startled and tried to prevent him from entering the part of the store where Penelope was trying on the mockup dress. Penelope tried to hide herself, but to no avail. There stood Anthony, clutching a piece of paper and panting in exertion and anger. Upon seeing his intended, he seemed a bit surprised. Shaking his head slightly, he cleared his thoughts.

“Mother, Penelope, I’m sorry. It’s just, well-” Anthony said.

Penelope kept her eyes trained on the hem of her skirt, refusing to look up.

“What on Earth could be so pressing? Can’t you see that we are quite busy? What are you holding? Give me that,” Violet said crossly, snatching the paper from his hands.

Anthony took her reading time to survey Penelope, noticing the faint wetness gathering at the edges of her eyes. He fingered the handkerchief in his pocket, but he did not say anything to her.

“Oh, Heavens above! Will this woman ever rest? I wonder whatever she has to do in her life but gossip about the comings and goings of others!” Lady Violet exclaimed.

It was then that Penelope knew she was talking about today’s edition of Lady Whistledown. She had written quite the scathing tale of “overhearing” that one Miss Penelope Featherington would be designing the gowns for her new life at the modiste today. The lady took the opportunity to insult all known choices for the reception thus far and said that surely the gowns would be no better. To end it all, the column ended by again calling into question the motives of the Viscount in marrying her. It was all quite salacious, and Penelope had felt pride at all the clever insults she had aimed at herself.

Having an obligation to act none the wiser, Penelope steeled herself to absorb her tears and ask in a clear voice,

“What gossip?”

“Nothing, dear!” Lady Violet said too quickly.

Penelope had to stop herself from raising an eyebrow and simply reached for the paper. Though Lady Violet hesitated to give it to her, Anthony forced the pamphlet into Penelope’s hand. Penelope’s eyes glanced over the familiar words. Although most of the commentary from the previous night did not sting, a line at the end of the piece did catch her off guard and unwillingly a fresh set of tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.

_“I daresay that every young lady should try for a new gown in the coming weeks, as the entirety of the modiste’s fabric supply will certainly be used up in making Miss Featherington a new wardrobe. I should think the young ladies of the ton would all love a brand new selection of bolts to choose from for their next ballgown.”_

The comment had seemed clever the night before, but a quick glance in the mirror made the insult feel too real.

“That’s quite enough, I think,” Lady Violet said, pulling the pamphlet from Penelope’s hands while glaring at Anthony.

Penelope choked back tears as quietly as she could but could not help letting one slip as she stepped away from the mother and son. She could hear the papers being ripped and a light smack, likely from Lady Violet to Anthony. She could hear a violent whisper conversation, but she was too focused on trying not to cry.

“Penelope, my dear, I think I saw the most lovely fabric right over here. I’ll not be gone a minute!” Lady Violet called.

A few seconds later, a hand came to rest on the top of her shoulder blade. With blurry eyes, Penelope looked up at Anthony. She knew Lady Violet was within sightline, but she still appreciated the moment. She laughed lightly, trying to appear as unbothered as one could while in tears.

“I swear, it wasn’t even Lady Whistledown. These preparations have me quite perturbed already, and fitting gowns has never been my favorite part of the modiste! I’m quite alright, I promise,” Penelope said.

“Of course, of course,” Anthony murmured, pulling the handkerchief from his pocket and offering it to her.

Penelope smiled at him through the tears and dabbed as best she could.

“Pen, forgive me for losing my head and bringing that pamphlet here. I just needed to speak to my mother about it and vent. I supposed that you would be too occupied with your fitting and I could pull her outside momentarily. I’m sorry, I tend to lose my head when I get emotional. It’s a flaw of mine long overdue for fixing,” Anthony cut himself off, shaking his head.

“Oh, it’s quite alright. But why ever would you become emotional over silly old me, Anthony? I’m just Penelope Featherington,” She tried to joke.

Anthony feigned a shocked face that sent her into giggles.

“You’re Penelope Featherington? You?” Anthony looked around the shop in mock disbelief. 

“By God, it is quite the pleasure to meet the great Viscount’s fiancée! My apologies for not recognizing you sooner, madam. I have been hoping to meet the lovely lady ever since I heard the announcement,” Anthony teased her.

The farce cleared the tears from her eyes and she couldn’t help but grin.

“You know, you’re much more good-natured than you give yourself credit for, Anthony,” Penelope said.

Anthony pretended to look angry, drawing closer to her person. For as sharp-tongued as she could be, the woman could be too forgiving of the sins of others.

“Miss Featherington, you must keep your voice down. I should die rather than sully my reputation as a hot-headed, boorish man,” Anthony whispered conspiratorially.

Penelope could not help a louder laugh, even with the small part of her that could not help but be reminded of how she and Colin would laugh like this. She was entitled to the mirth after a strenuous season. The moment was broken by Lady Violet sweeping back into their portion of the shop, holding yet another roll of green velvet.

Anthony’s more serious expression slid into place and he stepped away from Penelope.

“Mother, how would you feel about hosting dinner tonight with Miss Featherington at our home? I believe we shall all need a hearty meal tonight,” Anthony said.

Lady Violet vehemently agreed, and the two began talking about arrangements that needed to be made with servants in preparation.

While they were enraptured in conversation, Penelope could not help but smile at the sight of her new family. Although she was not entering it as she hoped to, she was still glad that she got to keep them for the rest of her life. It would be nice to have a real family for the first time in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shippers, let me know where your hearts are at! Now that we've heard from Colin and we've gotten a little more from Anthony, who are you hoping ends up in first place? Let me know in the comments!
> 
> Also, I will fight to the death that the actress who plays Penelope is gorgeous. They just need to change up Pen's hair and dresses because goodness can they be incredibly unflattering at times. Yes, starting by dropping the waist line a little bit on all of her dresses.


	5. Absens Haeres Non Erit

Dinner at the Bridgerton home was even more lovely than usual. Penelope had always fit in as an honorary Bridgerton sister due to her friendship with Eloise, but now that she was to become the Viscountess the family had thrown all notion of society to the wind and truly treated her as a loved one.

Not only did she talk quietly with Eloise or dance a polite set with Benedict, she laughed loudly at Anthony’s jokes and entertained Hyacinth and Gregory. She brought her stitching to sit with Francesca and her news of the ton (with careful consideration for concealing her alternative identity, of course) to Lady Violet.

The whole matter was so familial and plain that even the Baron and Baroness began to make excuses for their absences. It was no trouble to Penelope if they did, either.

She was free to dine and drink and be merry all she pleased. It was a small, sweet taste of what her life was to be like for the rest of her years, and it only made her crave the days until her wedding to pass by even sooner. That was the only reason, of course.

Certainly not the way Anthony had loosened in the past weeks: his cravat and his attitude, that is. While he still had his moments of hot-headed stubbornness and disdain, he was oft found in a pleasant sort of mood. It was not unusual to see him fling his head back in laughter or wiggle his eyebrows over a particularly bold joke. He may have been starting to fill the position he had inherited years ago, but he also began to embrace the man he was always meant to be if only he had stopped running earlier.

It pleased Penelope to see a friend who had become so dear to her heart seem so much brighter. Well, not her friend. Her future husband. But the thought of being completely, full bound to Anthony still made her blush, and nowadays had even caused her pulse to quicken a bit. They did have the loveliest banter, did they not?

“Penelope? What say you on the matter?” The object of her thoughts called to her from across the sitting room.

Confused, Penelope was startled from her thoughts.

“Pardon me, I do believe that my mind wandered from the conversation at hand. What am I to remark upon?” Penelope asked.

“We were hoping to have a quick walk about the gardens before evening fell, Pen. You, Anthony, Benedict and I,” Eloise said, already putting away her journal.

Penelope nodded, and the four headed outdoors. Once beyond view of the sitting room windows, Eloise turned to Penelope and looped arms with her. Anthony and Benedict walked slightly behind them just out of earshot.

Penelope hadn’t had much time alone with her best friend since she became engaged to Anthony, but Eloise had seemed perfectly normal and supportive of the union. Certainly, there was an iota of outrage that Penelope had not mentioned their connection prior to the whole family knowing and some bitterness at the loss of her dear friend to wedlock, but she had (for Eloise’s timeline) quickly accepted the match.

Now, alone as they had been in a while, Penelope feared the worst. Was her acceptance merely a ruse to save face? Was she actually upset over her brother’s engagement? The thoughts must have seemed obvious on her face, because Eloise bumped Penelope with her hip and rolled her eyes.

“Christ, Penelope, I’m not going to flambé you over marrying my brother. Relax,” She said.

Penelope let out a small sigh and smiled in relief, grateful as always that Eloise was so straight-forward.

“You know that I can’t help but worry. You’re more a sister to me than my own, and I could not bear to upset you.”

Eloise smiled in shameless pride, putting a bit of cockish strut into her walk for effect.

“I know, I know. I’m a wonderful, gracious best friend. And even if at first I was very cross at the thought of you marrying _any_ man, let alone _Anthony_ , I’ve come to terms with it simply because I love you and adore the thought of being sisters in the eyes of the law as well,” Eloise said.

At that, Penelope had to slightly hip bump her back, although her hip only connected with Eloise’s thigh.

“The only question I have to ask is for heaven’s sake, why _Anthony?_ Benedict is much more liberal and Colin is much more charming. Even little Gregory might be a more suitable partner,” Eloise laughed.

Penelope tried to let out a laugh as well, but the sound caught in her throat. If only Eloise knew…

“Come on, Pen. It is only a joke. I know that you have become quite the good friends with my eldest brother in these past weeks. I am sure he will make an alright husband. Not as good as _I_ would have made, but decent at the very least,” Eloise said.

With that, Eloise let Penelope’s arm drop and she spun rather violently around. She could see the mischief in Eloise’s eyes.

“BENEDICT!” She shouted, interrupting her brothers’ conversation and causing them to jog to catch up.

“Whatever could be the matter, Eloise?” Benedict inquired.

“That is an excellent question, brother. One that I will answer as soon as we begin walking again,” She said, grabbing Benedict’s arm roughly and propelling him ahead into the garden.

Penelope had to chuckle at the obvious scheme, only able to shake her head at the Eloise’s rapidly moving frame some hundred feet ahead of where Anthony and her stood now.

“Subtle as ever, is she not?” Anthony had to remark as he reached to place Pen’s hand in the crook of his elbow. The two began their stroll casually through the gardens.

“Of course, my lord. As subtle as a town crier, your dear sister,” Penelope said.

“Soon to be your sister as well,” Anthony shot back.

“I’m aware- otherwise why on Earth would I marry you? You are aware that this arrangement was conceived purely from the notion that I would be adopting your sister as my own?” Penelope joked.

Anthony laughed heartily, throwing his back in the current manner he was now inclined to.

“Pen, you wound me. You wound me so deeply that I fear I may die from the injury. What say you to this? Killing your lover before he is even wedded to you?” Anthony teased.

Penelope had to fight a blush at the word lover to say,

“Oh goodness, Anthony, you mustn’t die now. You’ll need to give me a male heir and a spare before I end your life. Surely you aren’t so impulsive as to drop dead before securing my fortunes.”

Anthony guffawed at the barb, mimicking being shot with a revolver.

“I fear the damage has been done, my lady. I am deceased,” he said.

Penelope could only shake her head at the absolute silliness. Turning her gaze towards the gorgeous gardens, she could only wonder how easily her friendship with Anthony was now. Where once she struggled to imagine herself his wife, now it was not so difficult.

In fact, quite the opposite. For all his stubbornness and pride, it was easy being around Anthony. Whereas with Colin everything had always been draped in tension and longing, being around Anthony was like breathing. Their banter was natural and their tough conversations were manageable. It didn’t hurt that he had the impeccable handsomeness of a Bridgerton.

Penelope shook herself from her thoughts. No, that line of thinking was no use to her now. She turned her attention onto the bounty of flowers, seeking out her favorite carnations. Anything to keep her mind focused.

Following the path of Eloise and Benedict, the two began rounding their path back to the house. Anthony cleared his throat and adjusted his waistcoat a bit.

“Pen, may I ask you something?”

“I believe you just did without my consent, so no you may not,” Penelope teased.

“I’m serious,” Anthony said as he rolled his eyes amusedly.

“Alright then, speak your peace,” Penelope replied.

Anthony took a breath, weighing his words carefully. He rarely ever had to filter himself around her, but this was likely the most important thing he had ever asked her in the time they’d gotten to know each other. He couldn’t let himself mess this up.

“Pen, you have to know how pleased I am with our engagement thus far. You have exceeded each of my expectations by twofold and continue to advance them further each day. Becoming familiar with you has been such a pleasure that I cannot describe it. But I must know, are you happy?”

Pen looked up at him with wide eyes, and Anthony stared back into hers. Anthony couldn’t help but feel the warmth shining out of her sky-blue eyes. Being around her was like night and day to Siena. Where being with Siena had been passionate and gritty and consuming, being with Pen was bright and light.

“Am I…happy?” Pen asked, her eyebrows furrowing a bit.

“Yes”

“Well, I suppose so. I’m in the middle of preparing the wedding, which can be stressful but will be worth it. I’m about to be free of my family and join yours. And then we’ll be free to do as we please. Which is quite a bit nicer to imagine now that we are such good friends,” Pen said slowly, cautiously.

“And that is what makes you happy: us being such good friends?” Anthony asked.

His voice had lowered quite a bit, imploring for seriousness.

“Of course. It has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life to come to know you as I have,” Pen said.

With the house rapidly approaching, Anthony stopped their progress and turned to grip both of her hands within his.

“I know that. What I want to know, Pen…”

Her hands felt so small and delicate in his, and he held them carefully as one would hold a porcelain saucer or a wounded bird.

“Yes?” She asked, confused.

“I want to know if you feel the sa-“

A cry from Eloise cut his statement off squarely. From just around the edge of the house, he could spot a horse and carriage. And before he could even consider who it might be, Benedict answered the question for him.

“COLIN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Thank you to everyone who commented last chapter, you really came out to support the boys! I haven't tallied the numbers yet, but it looks like Anthony is winning by a landslide. Interesting, interesting. Although, I do have to wonder if Colin has gotten a fair representation... perhaps that's something I'll have to fix.


	6. These Tangled Strings

Standing in the sitting room of the Bridgerton Home, Penelope felt that up was down and down was up. Here she was to be married to one Bridgerton, and the Bridgerton she’d loved for years had returned from an extended tour months ahead of schedule. If she was not clinging to the arm of Anthony, she was afraid she’d faint.

And certainly not like Cressida Cowper’s “swoon”. Oh no, Penelope would hit the floor so quickly and hard that the Bridgertons might think she passed away right before their eyes. As if he could hear her thoughts, Anthony tightened his lock on her arm and rested his opposite hand over her own.

Meanwhile, Colin attempted to remove his hat and traveling coat under the weight of all the Bridgerton women’s affections.

“Ladies, I assure you that I have missed you entirely more than you have me. There is no need to rush me all at once, I will properly greet every single one of you,” Colin laughed.

“Oh, but Colin you have been away so long!” Hyacinth shouted, clinging to his waist.

“I know, dearest! Whyever do you think I’ve returned so early?” Colin laughed, his eyes coming up to lock with Penelope’s.

Oh, heavens above. Despite every fiber of her being screaming otherwise, she could not help but get sucked into the vortex of his eyes. Those gorgeous, whiskey-colored eyes that she so easily became inebriated on. But what was that look? Penelope had never seen such a look from Colin and could not fathom the meeting.

Turning his attentions briefly to Hyacinth, Colin easily plucked his youngest sister from his tall frame and set her aside. Striding forward, he reached her and Anthony quickly using the powerful muscles in his legs, surely enlarged by the rigors of his travels. He bowed shortly before the two of them. Penelope could not breath. Colin then reached out his hand to Anthony, which he grasped coolly.

“Brother, it is excellent to see you,” Colin said.

Anthony, for as blank as his face had been the entire time, could not but help a small smile.

“As it is for I,” Anthony replied.

Colin then turned toward Penelope and reached for the hand that was not wrapped up in his brother’s arm. Dipping his head slightly, he pressed a long kiss to her gloved knuckles. Perhaps too long, as his eyes stayed trained directly on Penelope’s face.

“And always the greatest pleasure to see you, Pen.”

Penelope flushed from cheeks to navel, any reply getting caught behind the lump in her throat. Was there a fire going in this room? It couldn’t be, as London was well into the late stages of spring, but her entire body felt possessed by heat.

“Yes,” was all she could whisper.

Colin stood straight and smiled at her. It was the same enthusiastic grin, but she could see what Eloise meant before. Colin would never lose his charm and affability, but his boyishness had been tempered. Where once naïve mirth made its home in his eyes, there was a different emotion there now. A steadier, more intense emotion. It felt like a lightning strike between the two of them.

Even as Lady Violet clapped her hands and called for sandwiches and desserts in celebration, the connection between the two of them did not feel broken. Not as they played separate games, not as they had separate conversations and not even as Penelope bid the Bridgertons a good evening. Although she had Anthony by her side almost the entire time, she could feel Colin’s presence as if a string tied the two of them together.

Even as her carriage drive further into the night and towards her home, she could still feel that string.

* * *

As he watched her carriage disappear down the street, Anthony could not release the knot building in his stomach. Christ, he needed a drink. Waving half-heartedly to his family as they headed to bed, he entered his study and poured himself a double of brandy.

How had today gone so wrong? This was supposed to be another easy day. This was supposed to be the day his bride picked out her gowns with all the giddiness of a schoolboy, but he had mucked that right up. Then, it was supposed to be a lovely dinner and a stroll through the garden. That at least had gone well. But then he was supposed to ask her today. He was supposed to ask her if she felt the same way he had been feeling. If she felt the ease that being around her granted him, if she felt the unconscious ebb and flow of their conversations, if she felt as natural holding onto him as he felt holding onto him.

But Colin had to come back and fuck that up.

He swigged a large gulp of the burning brandy from the bottle, as his glass was now empty. He felt guilty for wishing Colin didn’t come home. He had missed his brother terribly, of course he wanted his younger brother within the home once more. But why today? Why so far in advance of the wedding? Just as he and Penelope were getting closer and closer, Colin had to swoop in.

And he had noticed the way those two were around each other. Colin and Penelope had always gotten along swimmingly. Their connection was as plain as day from the very moment they met. But before today, it had just been Pen that had gazed at Colin. His blind brother had never truly noticed just how well he got on with her or how annoyingly perfect they were for each other.

Now, though, he knew the look in Colin’s eyes. He had _felt_ that look, deep in his chest and in his loins. That was the look of a man in love. That was a look of a burning, ravenous man. That was the same look he surely had on his face as he went to fight Simon in order to be with Siena. How familiar a look could be, and yet be so unwelcome.

Anthony heard a small kerfuffle coming from the sitting room, so he quickly opened his door and starting walking towards the open room. One sentence caught his ear before entering, though, and he ducked behind a column before he was seen. Heart pounding, Anthony was forced to eavesdrop for the first time in his entire life.

“Because she’s marrying your eldest brother, you twat!” He could hear Benedict say.

“Yeah, well that eldest brother is going to hear your lecture if you do not lower your voice. Or did you mean for him to overhear? I surely would not mind a word with him but given that we’ve been arguing in a whisper I sincerely doubt that this the goal of this interaction,” Colin whispered loudly back.

Benedict made a noise of disgust and Anthony could hear the settee creak slightly under his weight as he surely sat down.

Anthony had to take a long, deep breath in order to calm down. They were discussing him and Pen. How lovely.

“All I’m saying is, is that you know exactly what you’re doing. Kissing her hand that long, speaking to her in t _hat_ tone and undressing her with your eyes all night? You’re willfully acting upon Anthony’s intended and you know it’s wrong,” Benedict said in a hush.

“Look, I’m not proud of myself either. And I’m well aware of all the wrong I’ve done, this night and many other nights previous. However, what can you expect me to do? Stand idly by as he marries the one woman in the world that I love?” Colin asked.

“I-“

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that I should give up on the love of my life, Benedict,” Colin said.

There was a long pause and a deep sigh.

“You know damn well that I can’t do that,” Benedict said.

“Exactly.”

“I do have to ask, though. Did you look at his face, Colin? Did you look at your brother’s face once this evening? That cool, stony mask of his?” Benedict asked.

There was no reply.

“Right. Well, do you know what that look reminded me of? It reminded me of that look that Anthony gets whenever he has to sit behind a desk and be a Viscount for more than two hours. Or when he has to go to a particularly odious ball. Or when Mother would point out yet another debutante ripe for marriage. It’s the look he gets when he’s trying to conceal his true feelings on a matter. It’s the face of a man who must cage his true feelings for the continuation of polite society. I wonder what laid behind that mask as you flirted with his fiancée?”

Again, there was no reply but Anthony had heard quite enough. Silently, Anthony picked himself up from the ground and slipped back into his study.

Indeed, what had laid behind his mask this whole night? The more he tried to sort his emotions, the more they tangled. The burning he felt for Siena, the love but not quite in love he associated with Penelope, the anger and jealousy over Colin, the desperation he felt in setting up the duel last season, the liveliness of his banter with Pen, the relief at his brother returned safely to-

It was simpler to drown himself in liquor, so he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it evil of me to love confusing my readers with Polin vs Penthony? Perhaps, but I enjoy it far too much to cease!
> 
> I'm also dying to hearing from you: what did you think about the ever so slightly spicier tone I picked up in this chapter? Yay or nay? Should I crank up the heat a bit or let things simmer? This fic definitely isn't going to end up rated E (potential subsequent one-shots may be entirely other matter) but I could stand to inject a bit more heat.


	7. An Elegy in Red

The words Benedict had spoken to Colin kept him awake long into the night and plagued his dreams for the next few days. As much as he absolutely loathed to admit, his brother did have a point. An awful, odious point.

Anthony and Penelope did have a connection.

He could see it as they went on walks together or conversed in the sitting room. He could feel the natural push and pull of their camaraderie at ten paces. He recognized the affection they held for one another in their eyes.

All of it, every last bit, drove stake after stake into his heart.

He knew that Benedict was right: that interfering in his brother’s match was wrong and that he should consider his brother’s feelings. But damn it all to hell was watching them laugh together killing him.

Keeping his expressions light and his manners polite all the time was absolutely destroying him from the inside out. Holding back confessions of love and pain and deep, burning longing exhausted him. Sometimes he could not stand it.

On their last promenade, Colin had to duck behind a tree to soothe the ache in his chest. Leaning over with his hands on his knees, all he could picture was Pen walking as they were now but down an aisle, married and lost to him forever. Sliding slowly, painfully down to sit on the ground, Colin could not hold back the tears streaming down his face. Taking off his top hat, he bit his fist to silence the sobs wracking his chest.

He wanted to be a better man. He had to let her go. But losing Pen… God, could he imagine having his arm torn from his body? His leg sawed from his hip? His heart ripped from his very chest?

But it was all his fault. He was a bloody blind idiot for never truly appreciating her, for never recognizing how precious she was to him. He knew that he had never been the smartest man in London, but fortune had always been gracious towards him. It seemed now at the worst possible moment, his luck had run out.

His brother had recognized how wonderful Pen was and she chose him. There was nothing to be done.

Rising from the dirt, Colin cleaned himself as best he could. If he was to accept this fate, he would face it as a man. There would be no cold-shoulder, no pouting. If not for his own sake, for Pen’s sake he would play the happiest man in the country. Once she set off on her honeymoon, he could fall to pieces. But now? Now he would do everything he could to please her.

Colin launched himself into helping with wedding preparations like no man had ever before. If there was an errand that needed running, an order that needed filling or a party member that needed assistance, Colin was the first to volunteer. Keeping his hands busy distracted him from his misery since he could not dull the ache in his chest.

Besides, while he was committed to allowing Pen and Anthony their happiness, he was not sure what he would say or do should he have too much alone time with the object of his affection. It was one thing for him to hide a grimace into his wine cup over dinner as she discussed some aspect of the marriage license or the guest list, but it was entirely another to hold back his true feelings while deep in discussion with her.

He had been successful in his attempts thus far, but as he arranged a sample bouquet for Pen, his luck ran out.

“What are you on Earth are you doing with all those flowers, Colin?” Penelope asked from the doorway of the sitting room.

Colin jumped, knocking his knees into the desk where piles of different colored flowers lay scattered in layers around a vase. Turning his attention to the doorway, Colin could not help but lose all words at the sight of her.

Her hair laid in soft waves around her shoulders, with the upper portion of red locks pinned lightly back. Unlike her usual style of dress, she wore a very fitting emerald green dress. Even the neckline of her dress had been adjusted in a more… pleasing fashion. All of her was beauty, as she had always been.

Wide eyed, Colin rose to his feet and promptly knocked over his chair. He swallowed hard, fumbling to get the furniture upright once more while unable to break his stare at her for more than a few seconds at a time. Once righted, he gave a deep bow. Could the floor open up and swallow him whole, he wondered? He couldn’t tear his eyes from the floorboards as he prayed that they would.

“Are you quite done?” Pen asked, a coy little smile resting on her angelic face.

Colin rubbed his neck, giving a small chuckle.

“I do believe I am,” He said.

It was then that he looked up and caught the gaze of Penelope. Days of tension and longing flooded his body, and the electricity coursed through his veins. In Pen’s blue eyes he could see the wildness he felt reflected back at him.

Anthony, he had to remind himself. He could not betray Anthony in such a way.

He turned back to the desk full of flowers, sitting down once more. Perhaps the stupidest decision he had made, as he could hear the gentle woosh of Pen’s skirts crossing the room to stand beside his chair.

Her eyes scanned the exorbitant amount of flowers laid out on the table and placed in the vase. Colin’s breath caught in his throat as he caught a whiff of her delicate rose-scented perfume, which smelled better than anything than anything laying on the table in front of him. The unexpected brush of her arm and hair on his shoulder as she reached for one of the flowers in the vase sent him straight to heaven, and he scooted his chair’s seat further under the desk to hide the blood that was rushing to his face as well as other places.

Pen smiled at the deep red carnation in her hand before giving it a light sniff.

“My favorite flowers, carnations are,” Pen said, taking another smell.

“I know.”

Penelope turned her gaze to him, locking eyes. He had to avert them and turn his attention back to the vase in fear of what he wanted to do with her- _to_ her.

“The florist showed me a sample of the wedding bouquet that your mother picked out. I knew you would hate all the marigolds and chrysanthemums, so I asked for the chance to design a bouquet you’ll actually like. Thus, the carnations you love so much. And roses, I remember how fond you are of deep red roses,” Colin said.

“This must be costing you a fortune,” She whispered.

“Money does not matter. It is the very least I could do,” He said.

“Yes, but you must have spent an awful amount of time to run to the florist just to bring back all these flowers- which you will run back later today,” She said.

“Pen. I swear to you, there’s nothing more I’d rather be doing.”

“Is that so?”

Colin looked up into the eyes of his one true love, pouring every sentiment he’d never get to say out loud into one sentence. His brother damned, he would return to his resolution if he only could say this.

“The best parts of life are often long labors of love. I believe that the wonders of the world are only called so because they are the products of long, passionate devotion. I cannot build you a true wonder of the world, nor change a history of oversight and hurt, but I should very much like to provide you every bit of small wonder and beauty I can from now until the day I die. Starting with this bouquet.”

Colin’s words hung in the air, heavy with crackling tension. Pen’s eyes were full blown and a blush had blossomed across her cheeks and chest. As her tongue darted out to wetten her lips, Colin almost lost his constitution and leaned in ever so slightly.

However, the front door of the Bridgerton home flung open and the pair could hear Benedict arriving back with Hyacinth and Gregory.

Shock painting her face, Penelope quickly gathered her skirts and made a mad dash out the back door of the home. Colin could only sink further into his chair, bringing his hand to loosen his cravat. He would go mad, he decided. The only outcome possible would be to go mad.

Benedict greeted him as the youngest Bridgertons took their place on the carpet each with a new amusement. Penelope entered back into the room within a few minutes, feigning a long walk alone in the garden. She requested an escort from Benedict home, and the two disappeared from the home. Colin could not bear to watch them go. Instead, he just fingered a small red carnation.

Taking the flower with him, he slipped from the room and entered Anthony’s study. It was time for a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, we have quite the chapter coming up next.


	8. The Blood, It Boils

Sitting in the plush leather chair behind his brother’s messy desk, Colin sipped on a double helping of scotch and twirled the carnation around in his fingers.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t regret his behavior today. He was determined to let Penelope go, even if it would doom him to eternal unhappiness. But after a lifetime of blindness and now knowing that he had let his true love slip by him, he could not help but feel drawn to her. A small twinge of guilt flashed within in him (that was his brother’s fiancée, after all) but he knew that as long as she bore the Featherington name, it was no sin.

He did not care to think about what his life would be like once she took on the Bridgerton surname.

Colin took a gulp of his drink and tried to clear the image of the endless travels he would have to embark on to keep the memories of her from overcoming his mind permanently. He supposed that in order to clear her name from his heart, he may even have to join an excursion to Antarctica. Perhaps he could freeze to death in the cold and miss the birth of their first child.

Colin slammed him drink down on the desk perhaps a bit too hard and buried his face in his hands. He _really_ did not care to think about what activities his brother and Penelope would have to undertake in order to produce said child. The very mention made his blood boil.

Raising his eyes, Colin noted that the carnation he had been holding fell from the top of the desk into a cracked drawer on the side of his brother’s desk. Sighing, Colin yanked open the drawer and reached for the carnation. Upon removal, however, Colin found himself staring at a letter. The letter was marked in his brother’s handwriting with a single name- Penelope.

Did he dare open it? He could not decide if he wanted to read whatever his brother had to say to Penelope. He believed he may vomit if he had to hear musings on his brother’s arousal or affection or what have you.

But some small part of him- a deeply buried, masochistic piece- needed to know. He needed to know if his brother smoldered for the woman as well. Colin wanted the truth.

Reaching for the letter, Colin unfolded the pages with care. There were only two wrapped in the bundle and with no seal. Could his brother not properly write a love letter? He scoffed at the idea of writing such a short letter of love to Pen.

His disgust, however, quickly turned to confusion. The “love letter” appeared to be some kind of… contract? Colin’s eyes dashed over the words. With every turn of phrase, his confusion turned to anger.

Could it be true?

There was simply no denying it.

Anthony was marrying Pen out of _convenience._

Raising from his chair, Colin abandoned his seat behind the desk and whisked out of the study. The letter was clutched in his fist as he began searching for his eldest brother. Storming down hall after hall, his fury increased with every step. Spotting a familiar frame in the garden from an upper story window, Colin raced down the stairs and out of doors.

Anthony, hearing him approach, turned to greet his brother warmly but upon seeing the state of Colin turned confused. He became especially perplexed as Colin grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and began dragging him towards the tree line and away from the house. When had his younger brother gotten so large and strong?

“Colin! Colin, what the ever-loving fuck are you doing? Unhand me!” Anthony exclaimed.

Upon reaching his destination, Colin did so.

And promptly nailed Anthony in the face with a swift punch.

Wide-eyed, he staggered backwards.

“COLIN!”

Colin threw another punch to Anthony’s chin, and Anthony swung back to hit him straight in the chest. It was then that Colin brought the paper up to Anthony’s face and shoved it straight in.

“What the FUCK is this?” Colin shouted.

Anthony took a moment to snatch the paper from his hands and glance over the contents. Rightfully so, his expression dropped into one of guilt.

Seeing all he needed to, Colin tackled his brother and began hitting him over and over again. Aiming for his chest, cheeks- anywhere he could land a blow. Anthony, ever quick and strong, managed to flip the two of them by kneeing Colin in the stomach.

“You have NO RIGHT, Colin!” Anthony yelled, his breathing labored.

Colin crouched on all fours, fighting to return the wind to his lungs amidst a barrage of pain.

“Bloody hell, Anthony, I have EVERY right to beat you to a pulp right now. I _love_ her. I _love_ her, and you’re marrying her out of convenience? And you want me to stand there silently like an idiot? Christ, the fucking nerve of you!” Colin shouted, rising once more and throwing another punch at Anthony, who managed to dodge it this time.

“You didn’t even know you loved her until what- a few months ago? How could I have known? Hmm? Am I to read your mind all the way from Greece? Am I to guess that you love a woman you’ve left behind to gallivant across Europe? That you broke the heart of last season when you intended to marry her COUSIN? That you have never acknowledged or even noticed the feelings of since you were children? Is that where your right to be furious stems from?” Anthony shouted.

Anthony used the momentum built from his speech to tackle Colin into a tree, wrestling to get his arms pinned.

“I know I have been an idiot in romance, Anthony, a downright blind idiot. I know that I have penance to pay. I can recognize now all the pain I have caused Pen that she may never forgive me for. But at least I have never, _ever_ used her for my own selfish convenience. I have never looked her in the face and implied that she is such an outcast of society that she should give up all hope for love and marry me so she doesn’t die alone of old age. How could you let her deprecate herself in such a way? How could you use her like that?”

Colin shook his head in disgust and for the first time in his life, he easily overpowered Anthony and freed his arms. He pushed Anthony off him and onto the ground. Panting with exertion and anger, he took a few paces and leaned against a tree, sliding down to rest at its base.

Anthony sat still on the ground, slowly regaining the wind that was knocked out of him. Wide eyed and sweating, the two brothers stared each other down.

“I… I love her,” Colin said between pants. “I love her, and you’re marrying her because she was the easiest option.”

“Colin-“

“I was willing to- I was willing to let you do it. Because I thought you loved her too. That you loved each other. But clearly this agreement shows that you don’t, and I can feel it in my heart that she doesn’t love you. And surely you must have seen that I did? Perhaps not before my travels, nor in between. These past few days, though, you had to have recognized it within me. But you’re still marrying her.”

“You claimed to love Marina as we-“

“Penelope is different and you know that,” Colin said.

And he was right. Marina had been a song whistled on a bright afternoon: pretty and infatuating. Something that got stuck in your ear. But Penelope was a hymn: sacred, beautiful, and timeless.

Colin knew that declaring his love to Marina was a matter of youthful indiscretion and inexperience but declaring love to Penelope was divine. For the hearts and relationships on the line, it was a phrase that once spoken, could not be taken back. It was to whisper the name of God aloud and find Heaven on Earth. Yes, to love the dearest Pen was wholly another matter.

Colin knew that, and Anthony recognized it within Colin. There was nothing Anthony could say except,

“I know, Colin. I know that.”

There was a beat before Colin was washed in horror as realization rolled over him. Anthony watched as his brother’s expression changed, wondering what was possessing him.

“By God, you DO love her. You’re in love with her, too!” Colin accused.

“No! No. I’m not in love with Pen,” Anthony shouted.

Colin scoffed.

“Pen? You call her Pen now? Are you so familiar that you have been bestowed the right to use such an intimate nickname?” Colin interrupted.

“You have been away, Colin, so in private yes I have. I have all the right in the world,” Anthony said.

Colin lunged from his position next to the tree to strangle his brother, but Anthony rolled out of the way just in time. Colin, now covered in dirt and grass and all sorts of natural residues, pounded his fist into the ground and began to shed tears. Anthony watched in agony. He prayed for the words to stop his brother’s torture to manifest in his mind. God help him, he would say the words if it killed him.

“I’m not in love with her, Colin. Truly, I’m not. But I like her. I like her manner, her figure and everything about her. I am… fond of her. More than a sister or a friend, but less than a fiancée or a wife. I don’t know a word for it. I just know that I could possibly grow to be in love with her and that’s enough,” Anthony said.

Gasping in air, Colin slowly turned to lie on his back on the ground. The tears continued to stream down the sides of his face.

“ _Could_ grow to be in love with her? _Could?_ Does she not deserve better than the chance of love?” Colin asked.

Anthony had to pause, had to swallow a feeling he refused to name.

“She deserves a man that chose her first. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s neither of us.”

Those words rang true to the both of them.

“Colin, you were away. Pen-Penelope and I have become closer as is natural in these circumstance. It was not my intention to hurt you. I swear on our father’s grave that if I had known you cared for her so, I would have never even considered a flirting dance let alone a marriage. I’m sorry Colin,” Anthony said.

Colin let out a shaky breath, a sound so rough that it scared Anthony to hear it come from the lips of his ever-joyous brother. It was terrifying to see Colin so upset. His nature, although tempered by his growth, was always pleasant. Even when stubborn, infatuated and angry, he never lost control and spun down to depths this low.

“Apologies are but flags to the wind, brother, and I seek sails. Tell me- what are you going to do about it?” Colin asked.

Anthony moved closer to his younger brother and laid down on the grass beside him. What _was_ he going to do? The idea of breaking his engagement with the young redhead struck his heart.

Closing his eyes and running his hands over his face, the young Viscount had to face the truth for once in his life. He could no longer run from it and he could no longer act impulsively and emotionally. He simply had to deal with the fact that he did love Pen.

He was sincere in stating that he was not in love with her yet, but imagine what could be even a year from now? He hadn’t a clue, but a part of him wanted to find out. Wanted, for once in his life, to see something through to the end. Colin had a point, though. Penelope was in love with Colin and if Colin reciprocated, how could he deny her true love? So Anthony pivoted.

“I don’t know what to do, Colin.”

He took a stilling breath. 

“Even- even if I wanted to break the engagement, I’m not sure I could. We have made so many preparations, our families have expectations now. I loathe everything in the world to say it, but I’m not sure the Baron and Baroness Featherington would accept a third son after being promised a Viscount for a son-in-law. Even if that man was still a Bridgerton,” Anthony said.

Even if he was pulling the reasoning from his arse, the logic was still sound.

“Besides, haven’t… haven’t you broken Pen’s heart enough? Years she’s pined after you and only now that she’s a woman spoke for do you come gallivanting back to London claiming to love her? And only after you found at that she was engaged in a marriage of convenience? What is she to think?”

Colin ruminated on the thought, refusing to give once more into the temptation of bruising his brother’s devilishly handsome face. His brother did have something of a point. How long had he ignored the longing looks from Penelope, the sweet words and the attempts at intimacy? How many times did he convince himself that her actions were purely platonic, never truly seeing her? His heart ached at the thought, but he could not deny the merit of his argument. So Colin turned to what Colin does best: levity. 

“That I’m a fool? But she already knows that, brother,” Colin softly said.

The two men chuckles lightly, their hearts not in the action. Colin, at his rapidly declining hopes, and Anthony, at his false reasoning, could not let their moods disappear so easily.

The tension between the two brothers felt caging to the both of them. As if it was forbidden to reach out and clasp each other’s arms and discuss an agreement. This was beyond all manner of logic. This was no game to played: not with their hearts and especially not Pen’s. Colin turned to look at Anthony, sincerity etched into his eyes.

“Anthony, I am not the foolish young boy that once refused to listen to the experience of his family’s head. I am not the type of man who will overlook the beat of another human being’s heart, either. If you say that you love her and you say that it would be impossible for me to marry her, if she’d even have me in the first place, I will trust your word. Even if it kills me, I’ll give you my blessing to marry her. But if there is any chance, any at all, that you could release her, please consider doing so. I know you care for her deeply, but I am in love with her. I suppose that if I hadn’t been so blind, I might always have loved her. But either way, I will respect your decision,” Colin said.

And with that note, he rose to stand and started walking back towards the Bridgerton home. He walked stiffly and was covered in debris but he did not care. And all Anthony could do was watch him walk away, frozen on the ground and paralyzed by the options before him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting into the endgame now! Tell me what you're most looking forward to as we begin to approach the climax and ending of our story!


	9. Proceed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You definitely shouldn't listen to "when the party's over" by Billie Eilish on repeat while reading this chapter. That would be a terrible idea. How awful.

_My Dear Reader,_

_One can only wonder the state of the Bridgerton home with all the excitement occurring within it’s walls. The middle son, off traveling until recent, returned rather swiftly for the marriage of his brother. Perhaps a bit too swiftly? One can only wonder how a bachelor received an announcement and flew home so quick-_

Penelope crumpled the piece of paper and cast it into the small blaze crackling in her fireplace. It was a particularly cold night for summer to be right around the corner, which did not help her with her writer’s block. It was a good thing this edition would not be due until tomorrow night, because she was certain nothing worth positing would be drawn from her quill scratching tonight.

No, she was much too distracted and emotional for that.

Try as she might, she could not ease the endless roaring of her mind over the events of the last season. Her engagement with Anthony, which had led to dear friendship… and perhaps something more? The whirlwind of pressure and stress this wedding had placed upon her. The way Colin had rushed back to London well in advance of her wedding. The way he looked at her, acted around her and spoke to her. The way he had leaned in…

And this damn cold room!

Penelope drew away from her writing desk and went to stand by the fireplace. The small pops and crackles of the wood were a familiar sound that reminded her of being small and innocent, sitting by the fireplace in the Featherington winter residence. It was a much simpler time than the one she was facing now, and a small part of her wished she could go back.

A larger part, however, knew that she wouldn’t trade her position here for the world. Even if she was trapped between caring for her fiancée and… having _feelings_ for his brother, she was growing to love the woman she had become. Even if she had to write under a pen name for publishing, she was proud of herself. In seizing her fate, she had begun to shake herself from the grave of self-deprecation and was molding herself to be the woman she wanted to be. The little girl in front of the fire about to face the world could never imagine such a woman.

Since the events of the past year or so, she had learned she was smart and funny and wonderful. She could dance and laugh and be just as merry as any other lady could be. And with the development of her hairstyles and dressing, she was finally beginning to feel at home in her skin. Certainly not a muse of the famous galleries, but nowhere near the frumpy, grotesquely overweight girl she had often pictured herself as.

She was like a portrait of a particularly ancient ancestor. Not a beauty for the ages, but a sort of striking pretty that looked perfectly placed on the walls of a well-loved home. Though, perhaps the Bridgerton brothers would disagree.

The thought sent her to sit on the floor, sighing as deeply as she could.

What was the meaning of those men?

Anthony with his casual touches and arm holding. The way they would laugh so easily together. It felt as if she could tell him anything- anything at all- and they could converse over it for hours. Eloise would always be her best friend, but she felt quite close to Anthony. Intimate.

But Colin- what could she say about him? She was used to pining over him, to long gazes. It was always unreciprocated. But now it all felt different. She wasn’t an idiot: a man looking at her like that and acting like that meant something. What it meant for sure… she could not say for sure, but it certainly felt loving. Was that just her hopes rising once more? She could say, however, that she liked it.

Still, she was engaged to Anthony and even if she wasn’t, even if she wanted to pursue whatever Colin was feeling, there was nothing she could do. In a society such as the one she was trapped in a polite young lady did NOT approach a man. No circumstance would permit it.

But if she could…

The thought tossed around in her head. If she could say something, if she could do something… what would it be?

Laying down on her back, Pen let the diamonds and sapphires on her ring finger sparkle in the light. The mine cut glittered perfectly in the dark room and the sapphire seemed to contain the flames itself. It was the prettiest thing she had ever been given and she treasured the ring.

But did she really love the ring? If given the opportunity to trade it for another ring, would she? Did the somewhat gaudy setting truly suit her? If she was sitting in a room full of rings for her choosing, would she still choose it? And did that even matter?

She loved Anthony. Truly, she did.

But she wasn’t in love with him.

He was becoming her best friend and she felt for him. With time, she knew she could fall deeply in love with him- maybe even more than she loved Colin. But what sort of standard was that? How could she compare the loves she felt for each brother when the base standard was the love she felt for one of them?

Tears ran down the sides of her cheeks and into her hair. She _wanted_ to be in love with Anthony already. Everything felt so natural with him. Being with him was so easy and steady. Like walking through a field on a bright, breezy day. She could stop and smell every flower with him, commenting on the diversity of species and aesthetic arrangement of petals. No pressure, just the sun drawing out every freckle on his cheeks and freshly picked blossoms to weave into her hair. But God help her- she didn’t want easy.

Was it wrong to want both trust _and_ passion? She wanted to look across a room and feel her husband’s soul within her own chest. She wanted to make someone nervous. She wanted to make their heart pound and skip beats and sing. She deserved both commitment and deep, mad, wild love.

The ocean called to her, and she wanted to run over sand and surf to meet it. Even if sand flung everywhere, even her gown was soaked, even if she was knocked off her feet a time or two… it was worth it. To stand in the sea with Colin, his shirt drenched and her hair saturated, was what she truly desired. To feel his lips, salty though they may be, press with ravenous wanting into her own.

With the truth laid before her, Penelope could do nothing but stare into the flames before her.

Why did she hurt herself this way? There was no use in this line of thinking. Colin may have seemed altered, but that was no guarantee of his feelings. And even if his feelings had been altered, what could he do? What would she want him to do? Break the engagement between herself and his brother?

Penelope, for all the goodness within her, could not bear to ask Colin to do that. What would it do to their family, to their public standing? Anthony’s feelings would be crushed in the process, as well. She did not believe him to love her, but there certainly was a mutuality in their affection that seemed to run deeper for him. That day in the garden, when Colin had arrived? What would he have said if only he had the time?

It bore no good to dwell upon it further.

Anthony had been the first to ask for her hand when no other man was willing to have her. She would keep her word, even if it meant denying the beat of her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that I am reading every single one of your wonderful, lovely comments and appreciating every word, but I've gotten a bit busy this week and figured you'd like another update more than a response to each comment. Let me know what you think about this chapter!


	10. The Wedding

The day of the wedding arrived much sooner than Penelope had anticipated. She supposed that they had spent most of the season preparing for the event, but it still didn’t feel like a long time at all.

Now that the day was here, though, she hardly knew what to do with herself. Lying in her bed, her room slowly being lit by the rising beams of the sun, there was no more running from her mind. She was to marry Anthony Bridgerton today.

She buried her face into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut as if she could press every thought out of her head. There simply was no good thought today.

She didn’t dread the thought of marrying Anthony- he was still very close to her heart- but the reality sinking in of her impending nuptials made the imagery too sharp in her mind. Her vows, Colin’s presence and the fading but still unexplained bruises on Anthony’s face. The picture was too clear for her to handle.

It hardly helped that both Anthony and Colin had been the strangest of men these past two weeks. Colin, as promised, had flung himself neck deep into preparations to the point that Lady Violet would direct any questions about the event towards him! His presence, although at a distance, was ever constant. There were very few days that she could not feel his eyes rest upon her from across a room or a hall or a shop. She tried not to catch his eye, though, because it only made her upset once more.

Anthony, on the other hand, was absent most of the time. From the day the bruises and small cuts had appeared on his face, he had been consumed with tasks that kept him busy from dawn until dusk. The excuses ranged from unquestionable, like when he went to retrieve a marriage license, to downright absurd, like when he spent the whole day at a private art gallery across town with Benedict.

Imagine- days before his own wedding with plenty of business to be wrapped up before the honeymoon, and he spent the entire day across the ton looking at paintings with his brother Benedict. Just waltzing around quiet corridors remarking on brushstrokes and muses and lighting. The nerve of him!

She worried that perhaps Anthony was having second thoughts or had found her mooning over Colin, but she consoled herself with the notion that Anthony would have told her if anything was wrong. He would, wouldn’t he? Surely he’d mention it, right?

Shaking the thought from her mind, she rose and fully flung open the curtains. She had ruminated long enough. It was time to prepare for her wedding.

Some three hours later, with the maids and the women of her family having exited the room in the back of the church she was to wed in, Penelope stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was pulled back into a loose updo, with wispy waves framing her face so delicately. Her gown, the palest shade of ivory she had ever laid eyes upon, fit her frame perfectly. Although it was not the style of the season, the lowered waistline, the slightly puffed skirts and the almost bare shoulder suited her well.

For once in her life, there was not a bad thing she could say about herself. She did not think of herself as Aphrodite, but she certainly was a picture to behold. She felt… well, she felt perfectly beautiful. Not only was she smart and witty and bold, but she was beautiful.

Not cute, not pretty.

Beautiful.

And she was ready to show everyone.

Stepping out into the hall, her father held out his arm and escorted her to the large wooden doors where she would enter.

Clearing his throat, Penelope’s father turned to look at her. She expected to feel some sort of nostalgia from looking at her father for the last time as his “little girl” but she felt nothing.

“You look quite nice,” He politely offered.

“Thank you.”

The two stood in an awkward silence, waiting for their cue to enter.

“Penelope, I know I have not been the best father in the country. Nor your mother or sisters the best relations either. But I hope you should know that I have always wished you happiness with whatever gentleman you were predisposed to pick. Whether he was titled or not.”

Penelope furrowed her eyebrows, for wherever could this conversation being headed? She was quite literally on the cusp of being married. Married to a man who certainly had a title.

“All I mean to say is that if you were to change your mind, I would not oppose it. And I could assure you that I would subdue your mother into agreement,” He said.

Penelope nodded her head, flabbergasted.

“Thank you, father.”

The organ within the sanctuary began playing, and the doors of the church swung open to reveal the wedding before her. Smiling as she walked up the aisle, she kept her eyes focused on Anthony.

Dressed in his formal blacks, he looked quite the handsome gentleman. His hair was pushed back from his face, showing his sculpted face. Although his face was calm, there was a look of wistfulness in his eyes. She focused on them, for she feared herself if she looked at any witnesses or any particular Bridgerton.

Reaching the alter, Anthony grasped her hand and squeezed it gently. The vicar launched into a far too lengthy passage about love and fidelity and hope. How they were the truest things in the world. How marriage was sacred and needed to be treated as thus. Finally ending with one sentence:

“The marriage license, my lord?”

The vicar had his hand extended out towards Anthony, waiting for the slip of paper. But Anthony was frozen staring at the hand. The strangest expression laid over his face.

“Pen, do you really want to marry me?”

He whispered the words so quiet that she doubted even the aging vicar could hear him. He did not look at her.

“Anthony- yes. Of course! Why on earth would you ask that now?” She hissed back at him.

“Because you’re in love with Colin,” he whispered back.

Penelope recoiled a bit, the tears springing to her eyes. Anthony finally turned to face her, a sad smile gracing his lips.

“The license, my lord?” The vicar asked once more.

The people in the pews began to murmur, unsure of what was happening.

“Anthony…” Penelope exclaimed under her breath.

“If you were free- free to choose whatever your heart desires most- who would you pick?” Anthony asked.

Penelope could only blink, the edges of her eyes wet.

“Please don’t ask me that right now- we’re about to be married. Think about our families? The ton? Our financial agreements? Your… your feelings? It doesn’t matter what my heart desires.”

“Of course it does. It always does. Forget all of it, I will handle everything. The only thing you need weigh is your own feelings, Pen,” he said.

“Anthony,” She whispered as quietly as she possibly could. “I hate in all the world to say it, because you know that I love you and being married to you will be wonderful, but my heart belongs to Colin. And perhaps that may change one da-”

Anthony’s eyes were watery and he squeezed her hands, letting a silence fall over her.

“Ah,” Anthony exclaimed softly. “I thought you’d say that.”

With that, he reached into an internal pocket of his jacket and pulled out the marriage license. The vicar took the paper in his wrinkled hands and read over it.

“Sir, I do believe you’ve made a mistake. You are the Viscount Anthony Bridgerton? This license is addressed for Mr. Colin Bridgerton,” the vicar said loudly.

Penelope could hear the gasp fall from her lips in unison with the crowd behind her.

Anthony leaned closer to her.

“You deserve to be with the man you’re in love with and is also in love with you, Pen. And if it is in my power to help my dearest friend, a woman I hold so close to my heart, then I have an obligation to her.”

With that, Anthony slipped his ring off of her finger and walked towards Colin Bridgerton who stood in the pews a few feet away.

“Brother-“ was the only word Colin could manage.

Colin had stood up from his seat. His eyes had widened and his breathing was increased, his chest heaving slightly from the confusion. Anthony pulled another ring from his pocket and placed it within his palm, curling his hand around it.

“The decision had to be up to her, Colin. This whole time we’ve been deciding for her, but she deserves to be with the man of her choosing. And I think we all know that as much as she cares for me, she’ll always love you more. All you must do is treat her like the most wonderful woman in the world. Appreciate her every day and every night. Be in love with her for the rest of your lives,” Anthony said.

“Are you sure? Of course I want what Penelope wants most of all, but you…” Colin trailed off.

“Nonsense.”

Colin looked to his mother and the Featheringtons, but no one in the familial party protested. The baroness, when attempting to stand, was pushed back into her seat by her husband. Eloise, Benedict, Daphne- everyone was smiling at him, if very surprised. Colin pulled his brother into a tight hug, and Anthony patted him on the back before releasing him. Floating on air, Colin turned back to the altar and approached Penelope.

“Hello.”

Penelope felt faint, but she was not the meek girl she used to be.

“Are you aware, sir, that your family produces the biggest idiots in London?” She whispered, dazed and confused.

Colin chuckled, a few tears running down his face.

“I didn’t know this was happening, Pen. I swear-“

The vicar cleared his throat, giving Colin a look. Colin ignored him and pushed through.

“I swear I did not plan this. I understand if you refuse me; you have every right to deny me after the hell I have put you through. Us through. But if you’ll have me… if you truly desire me… I’m in love with you.”

“Colin, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes. God almighty say yes. I’ll get down on my knees and beg you to have me. I’ll spend the next decade groveling at you feet if I could marry you,” He said.

Penelope could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, but the look in his eyes told her it was all truth. Suddenly, a future where none of the past hurts would matter, where they could be together for the rest of their lives laid before her. There was only one answer she could give.

“Yes.”

The vicar kept glancing down at the license and back up at the two of them. He could not fathom the circumstances before him and had the greatest inclination not to. So he proceeded. Running through the end of their vows, Penelope and Colin both exchanged their “I Do’s”.

Finally, the moment had arrived. Colin pulled his new wife into his arms. The smile on her face was unbreakable, her rosy lips curving in the most heart-pounding way.

“I love you,” He said, reaching one hand up to grasp her chin.

“I love you, too,” She replied.

And for the first of hopefully a million more times, Colin and Penelope kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH! We've almost reached the ending, but there is one more chapter left! An epilogue of sorts, and a behind-the-scenes explanation for the seemingly Disney-like switch at the alter. Let me know what you thought about this chapter- I haven't had the time to reply to all of the comments, but I read every single one and I always appreciate the kind words and feedback.
> 
> Edit: I'm hearing you guys on the Anthony situation- don't worry, I'm going to take care of him too!


	11. All Good Things Must Have a Beginning

Sitting in the pews by himself, Penelope and Colin having rushed out of the church followed by their guests, Anthony studied the ring in his hands. He knew that he made in the right decision in letting Penelope choose Colin because that was what his heart truly desired. Still, he did not want to watch them drive off towards their wedded bliss quite yet.

Coming to the realization that he needed to let Penelope go was not an easy one. Sitting with a slab of uncooked steak pressed to the rapidly-forming bruises on his cheeks, Anthony had stayed up all night pondering the future. He was tempted to still marry Pen- there were few in society that would argue as long as she consented, it was his right.

But it didn’t feel that way.

How could he look her in the eyes? How could he look into the eyes of the woman he considered to be his greatest friend, a woman he had such admiration and love for, and deny her the right to choose her own fate? How could he call her his equal with his lips and shackle her to him for the rest of her days with his actions? Could he honestly look himself in the mirror in a year, five years, thirty years knowing that Pen could have had the life she always wanted- and that he s _tole_ it from her?

He could not bear it.

Even if they happened to fall deeply in love as he suspected they would, he could not gamble with her happiness in that way. And so he began to plan.

If he was going to offer Penelope options, he was going to present them in a way that she could freely choose. If she was worried about him or the ton or finances or anything, she might be tempted to choose the safe option. That was no better. She needed to choose her heart’s desire- he would accept no less.

The first piece he had to settle was with her family. He knew that marrying a third son was far different than marrying a Viscount and the demotion may upset Pen’s family. So he made a little visit to her father.

Anthony hadn’t spoken to him more than twice (one time being to ask for Pen’s hand) but the Baron’s reputation was well-known about the town. As a man of luxurious tastes and a less than extravagant set of finances, Baron Featherington was motivated foremost by coin. Status and power were all well and necessary, but the lining of his pocketbook was worth far more than anything else.

So he gambled. Spoke freely with the gentleman and made him a deal: if Penelope married him, he would refuse her dowry. But if she chose to marry another man, say another certain Bridgerton, the Baron’s blessing would be highly rewarded. They do say that good things come in threes. Perhaps Pen’s dowry would be returned to the Baron even more plentiful than imaginable.

The Baron had quickly agreed, and Anthony knew that for the windfall the Baron would temper his wife.

The next step had been even easier if a bit awkward. Speaking to his mother in matters of love had not been his favorite use of time, but he needed her blessing to offer the choice. He may be the head of the Bridgerton family, but everyone knew that the matriarch was the true force of power behind the clan.

He had expected shock from his mother, but Lady Violet had simply put down her teacup and grasped his hand. She explained that she had had an inkling of the situation, but she did not want to interfere until the brothers had solved the situation on their own. She knew that the decision was not easy for Anthony, but she was proud of him for making it. To sacrifice the potential happiness of oneself for the assurance of another’s was certainly noble.

He did not shed a few tears over the compliment. Certainly not.

After talking to his mother, he needed to talk to the new Duchess of Hastings. Daphne had been quite busy in her first full season as a married noble, but upon hearing the situation she had cancelled all of her appointments for the afternoon. Step by step, the two walked through every possible scenario and what would be done to combat it.

Nothing would catch them off guard. Not Lady Whistledown, not the ranks of the Cowper family and not the queen herself.

Benedict and Eloise were the final piece of the puzzle. The tasks of getting the license, picking a new ring in stead of Colin and collecting information on potential manors for the newlyweds to purchase on return from their honeymoon would take all the possible time he had left.

The excuses of Benedict proved invaluable and the assistance of Eloise in all matter of taste were essential. He hated to drag his sister into… _persuading_ the archbishop to grant a special license under Colin’s name through “gossip” and sizable “donations” but he had to admit the ventures would have been Herculean without Eloise’s headstrong nature reinforcing his own.

In the end, the marriage of Penelope Featherington to one Colin Bridgerton was quite a team effort stemming from the love of both parties.

The day and it’s preparations had been exhausting and heart-wrenching, but seeing her look at Colin… he knew he had made the right choice. He knew that her heart would always choose him, and she deserved the choice.

Even if it hurt him for the time being.

“You look quite upset, my lord. Almost as if your brother just married your fiancée, Lord Bridgerton,” A voice said from behind him.

Turning his head, a beautiful woman stood in the aisle a few feet from him. Anthony was instantly struck by how beautiful she was. Her flawless dark skin and strong cheekbones were only outshone by her raven black hair, smoothed perfectly into a done-up coiffure. Her eyes twinkled with mirth, as if she was letting him into a particularly funny joke.

“What a blunt thing to say to a marry just abandoned at the alter, madam.”

“I would hardly call what just occurred an abandonment. More of an abdication,” she said.

“A rose by any other name; I hardly think semantics rank in importance in matters such as these,” he replied.

The lady slowly approached his pew, and Anthony stood to face her.

“Of course it does. A man left at the alter is to be pitied. A man abdicating at the alter for the sake of his brother’s happiness is a man to be honored. Not many men would risk potential ire and embarrassment from the ton. Your family should be extremely proud of you. I’m sure from your brother’s expression, he will be in your gratitude for the rest of his life. More importantly, though, you should be incredibly proud of yourself,” she said.

“For making a fool of myself when I corrected myself at the possible second?”

She rolled her eyes rather unladylike and crossed her arms.

“For being a man of true character, my lord. Although your self-pitying does perhaps call my judgement into question.”

Anthony could only stare at this woman in shock. What woman could be so straightforward and bold, almost to the point of impertinence?

“Pray tell madam, what is your name?”

“Miss Katharine Sheffield, sir. And yours is Lord Anthony Bridgerton, yes?”

“However could you tell?” Anthony said rather sarcastically.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think I may have attended a wedding of yours once,” She shot back.

“Funny, as I have never heard your name mentioned in the ton before,” he said.

Anthony winced as soon as the words left his mouth, recognizing how harsh they were. He expected a tongue lashing of the century for his rudeness but it did not come. Instead, Miss Sheffield stood there with a slowly growing smile on her face. What kind of woman was she? Her eyes twinkled, enjoying the rather caustic exchange.

“I suppose I should be grateful for the opportunity to remedy that. And the chance to stop a good man from a downward spiral of self-pitying,” she said.

Anthony took in her strong features and manners, intrigued with the woman before him moreso than any woman he had ever encountered in his life. He held out his hand and she slipped her gloved one around his for a firm handshake. Yes, he was quite interested in this young lady.

“I do believe I should be the most grateful of all, Miss Sheffield. Most grateful indeed.”

* * *

Rushing from the chapel and towards an awaiting carriage, Colin and Penelope were to be whisked away to their honeymoon at Aubrey Hall. Colin would have to sort out the purchase of their own household and all adjacent necessities soon, but it could wait for the time being. Extending his hand to his new _wife_ , Colin assisted his wife in stepping up into the cart before settling beside her on the leather seat. The driver roused the horse into action, and the two were on their way to Hastings House where they would be presented.

The whole thing seemed like a fever dream. Penelope could only stare at the new jewelry on her ring finger: a new silver band set with the most stunning deep green emerald surrounded by tiny little diamonds and pearls. It was the most perfect thing she had ever owned. Especially since it was a symbol of the vow she made to the man sitting next to her, the one man in the world she loved dearer than any other.

“Pen,” Colin said quietly.

Penelope, more nervous than she had been in her life before, slowly looked over at him. His eyes were soft, gazing at her like one of the wonders of the world. His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink and his breath came in shorter paces than it should have.

“I must know what you are thinking. I meant it when I said that I had nothing to do with this, you must know that. I… I will not lie and say that I would not trade marrying you for the world, but you have to know that I did not plan this. In fact, I’m not even quite sure how Anthony pulled this off. But I’m damn glad he did,” he said.

“I believe you, I do. I’m also curious as to how Anthony managed to arrange this. I almost hesitate to ask, for fear that this reality may shatter into pieces,” Penelope said.

Colin reached for her hand and held it to his lips, looking deep into her eyes.

“There is nothing that could be done to tear us apart now. I won’t let it happen. Unless you asked me to leave and couldn’t stand the sight of me, you’ll simply be stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

Tears blurring her vision, Pen pressed her cheek into his arm and gave a short laugh.

“And why, dear sir, would I ever feel such a way? Are you planning to pursue another one of my cousins?”

Colin made a ghastly sound, reaching for her hand and bringing it to his mouth. He pressed a firm kiss against her knuckles.

“Pen, I can’t apologize enough. Finding out you were going to be married… I can only imagine the heartbreak and disappointment I have caused you with my moronic actions. The feeling of my stomach dropping out of my ass would certainly feel more pleasant. I wish I could go back and hit myself, but I suppose I’ll have to find a way to make it up to you instead.”

Pen gave a little laugh through her tears and pressed her cheek into his arm.

“It’s certainly fortunate then that you’ve got the rest of our lives to do it,” She said.

Colin shook his head and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

“You’re far too good-natured, my love.”

“Far from it,” she laughed. “I may be beautiful and intelligent and amiable, but I am certainly too witty to be truly good-natured.”

She looked up coyly to solidify her teasing, but her breath was stolen by the way Colin was staring at her. His eyes seemed to reflect every bit of mad love she had felt all these years. The heat and wildness set her heart racing. A blush rose in her cheeks and raced down to her chest.

“You’re everything and more, Pen,” Colin whispered.

The two slowly leaned in, hardly daring to breathe. Inches from his face, she couldn’t help but say,

“That’s Mrs. Bridgerton to you.”

A wide smile broke out across Colin’s face and he swooped into to kiss her deeply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we've reached the end of our journey! What a ride this fic has been: from intended one-shot to an almost 20k word, 11 chapter story! I know that a lot of you hoped for certain endings for this story, and I can only hope that the ending I've written is sufficient in satisfying your tastes. I know I'm proud of where the story went.
> 
> I can't express how grateful I am for everyone who has read this story and engaged with it. Reading your comments- your excitement, your admiration, your raw, unfettered appreciation- has made such an impact on me. Hearing not just about the ship and the plot, but just my writing in general has done wonders for my confidence and inspiration. Because of you, I've been writing more than I have in years and I can't thank you enough for that. My repeat readers and commenters who have followed along each chapter- you especially have been my rocks. Thank you. 
> 
> As for the future, I have a few ideas of what I'm going to be writing but I haven't decided for certain.  
> I know a few of you have requested an alternate ending with Penelope ending up with Anthony. I haven't completely eliminated the possibility, but to be honest I don't see myself doing so. I would have to rewrite a substantial portion of the story, and I stand by what I wrote. If anything, I feel like I'm much more likely to write short one-shots following up with our characters after the ending of this story.  
> I am definitely considering writing more content for Penelope (more Polin, but not objecting to Penthony) but if that happens it'll likely be one-shots or shorter content. A lot of the ideas I've had are more Modern AUs, but that could always change too.  
> If you're interested in reading more from me, make sure to subscribe to me as a user or just keep an eye out for my username when scrolling for fics!
> 
> Thank you all!  
> -MissLadyScribe


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